


Good Days

by SuperNerd (Regina_Lupus)



Series: The Aftermath [3]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Morning Cuddles, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13161828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Lupus/pseuds/SuperNerd
Summary: They had rough moments, but they were already so much better than they had been when first arriving in Seattle. The more days that passed, the more Max grew confident that she could make her life a good one. So long as Chloe stayed at her side.





	Good Days

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously this is just a short bit of fluff that I needed to write because I apparently need cuddly Chloe like I need water. I’m working on a thing that has more of a plot with multiple chapters (this has a tiny speck of plot even, kind of) but for now: SHAMELESS FLUFF!

The morning light filtering through curtains shined onto Max’s face, waking her from a blissfully dreamless and restful sleep. It wasn’t the first she’d had in the two months that they’d been staying with her parents, but she didn’t let that stop her from silently celebrating this victory. She kept her eyes closed despite her wakefulness, simply relishing in the peacefulness of the moment.

She could hear Chloe’s soft snoring from somewhere around her chest, where the older teen had apparently decided to rest her head sometime in the middle of the night. Her arm was resting limply over Max’s stomach. Curiously, Max slowly opened her eyes and looked down.

Chloe was, somehow, halfway down the bed with her legs partially hanging off the edge. Max could see now that her head was laying more between her stomach and her chest. It couldn’t have been comfortable for Chloe as she was mostly sleeping on Max’s ribs, and yet she dozed on completely unfazed. She tried to fight it, but a quiet laugh still broke from her throat.

Chloe stirred, her light sleep disturbed. Max wasn’t sure if it was the sound or the movement. It was likely both. Max maneuvered her arm out from where it was pinned to her side and brought it up to stroke Chloe’s hair.

“At least come up here a bit more,” she teased, rousing Chloe enough to get a semi-intelligent reply. At least she hoped she had.

“Nooo,” she whined. Max smiled. “M’comfy.”

She tugged Chloe’s shirt gently, not letting her fall asleep again. With a petulant groan, the taller finally pulled away enough to wriggle up the bed and flop down on her side. Max smiled at Chloe’s half-lidded scowl, then turned over with the intent of getting up. However, her bedmate had other plans.

Deceptively strong arms wound around her chest from behind. She was quickly pulled down on her side and held tight to Chloe’s chest by a vice like grip. One long leg was thrown over her own and warm breath ghosted over her neck. Max had the logical impression that she should be fighting to get free, but she had little will to actually try.

“Do’n go,” Chloe mumbled against her shoulder. “Cuddle.”

Max laughed softly, but settled easily into her lover’s arms without so much as sarcastic remark. Chloe could be a bitch in the mornings, but she was also too damn cute to simply leave. Max intertwined her fingers with Chloe’s, gently praying that arm away so she could lay their tangled hands on the bed. The older teen didn’t protest, simply held her tighter with her other arm and nuzzled her shoulder.

Chloe drifted off to sleep again in a matter of moments, her grip loosening only slightly. So far, it seemed like they had another good day ahead of them. Another day where they could smile and laugh and feel almost normal. A day without panic or a painful, silent agreement between them that kept them from speaking to each other. Those days where the hardest, and thankfully one hadn’t happened for about a month. Chloe still had her moments, but so did Max. What mattered was that they had improved beyond what anyone had expected.

They both knew without being told that they would bear scars for the rest of their lives. To Max, this didn’t matter. What mattered, what she cared about most, was that neither would be forced to walk around with open wounds. Scars are permanent, physically and emotionally, but they were a sign of healing and strength. She had expressed this thought to Chloe one night, fully expecting to be teased for her overly poetic thoughts, but Chloe had simply looked at her as if in awe. Right when Max had begun to grow self-conscious, Chloe had called her amazing then promptly distracted her from further insightful thought patterns.

The photographer smiled at the thought, squeezing her sleeping partner’s hand. They had rough moments, but they were already so much better than they had been when first arriving in Seattle. The more days that passed, the more Max grew confident that she could make her life a good one. So long as Chloe stayed at her side.


End file.
